


Not Bad

by Cohava



Category: Star Wars
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, flashfic, fluff-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 11:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cohava/pseuds/Cohava
Summary: Just a moment in time with two nerds on Starkiller.





	Not Bad

Logically, he knows he should stop.

He has acquired a lot of information about what the underlings think of him (a lot more than he ever wanted to know, to be honest) but the charade has served its purpose. It’s time to end it. 

Also, the wig itches. 

He should stop--but he know exactly why he won’t. It’s her. 

Rose Tico is a nobody, just one of the many mechanics buried deep within the bowels of Starkiller. She’s inconsequential. 

But she is… nice. She has helped him out with the radar techniquing business, always willing to re-demonstrate something for the hundredth time with a bright smile and kind words. 

She never yells at him. When he sits next to her in the mess hall she doesn’t get up and leave. She listens to him and hasn’t ever mocked him. Not even when he tries to get her to see how awesome “Kylo Ren” is, which is something that has earned him a lot of grief from other technician and Stormtroopers (and grievous retribution for them as soon as he gets back to his own office).

Rose is not as enthusiastic about Kylo as he’d like her to be, but she is sweet about it. 

(And she calls him adorable. Adorable! He is the Jedi Killer, Master of the Knights of Ren, he is NOT “adorable”. But maybe Matt the Radar Technician is… and, judging from Rose’s smile, perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing to be).

Also she has… well, it’s not something that he likes to admit, even to himself, because he’s usually utterly unconcerned about such things, but Rose has… breasts. Which is completely normal. Many people have breasts. Some species even have several, and he has never paid any mind to it. 

But sometimes they… jiggle. It’s fascinating. And distracting. 

Today they (they as oin Kylo, err, Matt and Rose, not the breasts--although those are also present) are bent over an exposed tangle of wires, trying to fix some kind of recurring problem. Rose is working on it, fast and efficient. She looks very competent, and Matt just hovers awkwardly above her and handles her the tools. He’s gotten very good at tool handling since getting to know Rose. 

“Hey,” she grins up at him, ignoring the way his ears have suddenly gone very, very red, “get down here, Matt. I could use another pair of hands.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. Apologies are not his thing, but around this girl they tend to come out with alarming frequency. 

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t really know what to do.” He admits. “I’m… really bad at mechanics.”

(He’s never wanted to learn).

“Don’t.” She says firmly. He’s not sure whether to apologise again or snap at her when she reaches out for his hand and his brain short-circuits. Wow. 

Rose’s hands are small. But strong. 

“Don’t tear yourself down, okay? You’re not bad. You just haven’t learned yet, but I can teach you.”

She squeezes his hand and lets go and launches into an explanation of what she wants him to do, step by step and interspersed with encouragements. He can’t really focus on the specifics though--he’s silently overwhelmed by what she said--oh, this is so stupid….

But she said it. She did. 

He’s not bad.

It’s… it’s not something he hears very often. 

He may not know his way around a calcinator yet, but he knows one thing: the wig might be itchy, and the clothes might be abysmal, but he is not stopping this any time soon.


End file.
